Heavy Breathing
by Kit Spooner
Summary: Working out is an alien concept for Rukia. [IchigoRukia, kinda. Complete.]


Title: Heavy Breathing  
Author: Kit Spooner  
Series: Bleach (which is not owned by me at all)  
Pairings: Ichigo/Rukia, kinda  
Rating: G (Wow, I don't think I've ever written anything without either sex or profanity. I deserve a cookie or something.)  
Spoilers: None really. This fits somewhere into the pre-Soul Society arc, 'cause I wanted to do one of those stupid slice-of-life sorts of stories.

It was a close call. Even Rukia had to admit it as she stood hunched over, panting so desperately that she didn't bother to watch Ichigo finish off the Hollow. She didn't see the grace with which his sword cleft the monster's mask, or the nimble way he curled and landed on his feet afterward; she was busy trying to convince her body it wasn't dying.

"These blasted things . . ." she gasped, sucking air into her abused lungs. "This stupid _gigai_ doesn't have nearly the endurance I'm used to." She pawed sweat-damp hair out of her eyes and tried not to think of the blood trickling from her skinned knee. "How do mortals stand it?" she wondered aloud, placing one slim hand over her heaving chest. "How do they stand these weak, slow bodies?"

Ichigo paused, his expression on the verge of furious. Rukia knew he was gearing up for another scolding for her being so nearly another victim of the Hollow he'd just killed. But she'd run, just as he'd told her, and she knew he didn't really have any good reason to be angry with her. Instead he watched her with those occasionally-stern eyes and said nothing.

Rukia slowly regained her composure and her breathing returned to normal. Her muscles still ached, however, calves and thighs aching from the sudden abuse she'd dealt them. She was no longer the runner she had once been back at Soul Society. She was stuck in a body nearly as fragile as a human's and she wasn't quite sure how to deal with it.

"Ugh, I think my hamstring's cramped up," Rukia mumbled as she began hobbling homeward.

Ichigo followed. "Mortals work out when they want to get into better shape," Ichigo finally said.

Rukia glanced up at him from beneath her disheveled hair. "Work out?" It was an entirely foreign concept that she hadn't yet encountered in her research of modern culture.

The rounded the corner and paused at the threshold of the Kurosaki residence.

"People do exercises to strengthen their muscles," Ichigo continued while Rukia shinnied gingerly up the drainpipe and in through his bedroom window. Ichigo simply leapt.

Kon was in Ichigo's body, stretched out on the bed and reading an assortment of Karin's manga. "Yo," he said.

Ichigo ignored him thoroughly and pushed himself absently back into his own body.

"Exercises," Rukia repeated thoughtfully.

Kon, once more in his plush lion body, sulked off with his manga.

"If you want," Ichigo began slowly, "You can join me when I do my jogging."

Rukia stared.

"I jog every morning before school," Ichigo clarified.

"You _sleep_ every morning before school," Rukia corrected.

Ichigo stubbornly shook his head. "No, I get up really early and go running. Then I come back and sleep until I need to get up for school."

"That's demented," Rukia replied. "Mortals really do that? On a regular basis?"

Ichigo shrugged.

After perhaps a minute of pondering, spent patching up her skinned knee, Rukia finally commanded, "When you go exercising tomorrow morning, wake me up and take me with you."

And so began Rukia's morning exercise regime. Ichigo was not the most patient of coaches, but Rukia took his scornful looks in stride, only occasionally bothering to slam her foot down on his instep in retaliation. She knew that he was slowing his running speed to accommodate her shorter stride, so she was more forgiving of his usual asinine behavior.

Rukia's progress was slow, but after several weeks she began to notice a difference in her ability to keep up with Ichigo when they chased down Hollows. The muscles in her legs firmed and her heart and lungs became more accustomed to regular exercise.

Asano Keigo noticed as well.

"Such legs!" he wept joyfully one lunch period when the group had gathered on the roof to eat.

"Shut your mouth, Asano," Ichigo muttered darkly.

Asano continued to stare dreamily at Rukia. Such long, shapely legs on such a small girl!

Eventually, Ichigo punched him.

Rukia, not entirely sure what the traditional method was for dealing with such an awkward compliment followed by physical violence from Ichigo, decided that she ought to sit down and begin eating.

"Have you been working out, Kuchiki-san?" Kojima Mizuiro asked, his staring only nominally more polite. "Your legs do look rather . . . toned."

"I've been jogging," Rukia replied in her school-time sunshine voice.

"Ah," said Kojima.

"I was getting a bit soft about the hips," Rukia added, deciding to embellish her story with a little something she'd read about in one of the fashion magazines she'd stolen from Ichigo's sisters.

Kojima blinked and tried desperately to imagine any sort of flab on the girl. He failed and shook his head. "I don't think you need to worry about that, Kuchiki-san," he murmured.

Rukia shrugged and sat back to watch Ichigo pummel Asano in a very half-hearted manner, eating her onigiri in a slow, thoughtful sort of way.

After school was over, the usual larger group of classmates lingered for a few minutes by the front gate.

"And Kurosaki, that bastard, he hit me!" Asano whined to his semi-receptive audience. Well, a couple of the girls were listening at least.

Ishida gave a questioning glance at Ichigo. "Why'd you hit him? You're leagues beyond him in skill, so why bother?"

"He was ogling Kuchiki and she was too polite to do anything about it," Ichigo said sullenly.

"Ha!" Tatsuki grinned madly and flung an arm around Ichigo's neck, pulling him into a headlock. "So I guess there is a bit of chivalry in you, Ichigo!"

"Agh, stoppit," Ichigo spat, pushing the smaller girl away from him.

"Is it true, Kuchiki-san?" Orihime asked breathlessly, her eyes alight with some strange fervor. "It's very unusual for Kurosaki to be gallant like that!"

"Er," said Rukia.

"He's . . . a prince!" Orihime sang, eyes sparking with excitement. She clutched her hands to her amply padded chest.

"Uh, I suppose so, Inoue-san," Rukia temporized, still not precisely sure what the fuss was about.

"So he was what, defending your honor against the predations of that skeezy Asano?" Tatsuki demanded.

"Hey!" Asano objected.

"Asano-kun just mentioned that my legs looked nice," Rukia explained. "I've been jogging."

"Ah, that would do it," Tatsuki said with a nod. "Exercise is the only way to keep in shape." She flexed one wiry bicep.

"Kurosaki has been coaching me a little too," Rukia added.

Silence fell.

"You've been COACHING her too?!" Asano howled at Ichigo, who just looked irritated.

"Not coaching, really," Rukia continued quickly, wondering what sort of weird societal faux pas she had just committed. "He just lets me come with him on his morning run."

Asano sighed. "It's just not fair," he mourned. "Some guys get all the luck." Kojima patted his back consolingly.

Even Ishida looked fairly sympathetic as he watched Orihime babble her way through a series of fantasies involving Ichigo wearing some sort of fur-trimmed mantle and riding a huge, white, robot-horse-motorcycle thing.

Tatsuki, however, had an odd expression on her face. "Running? Ichigo doesn't go on a morning run."

"What?" Rukia was surprised out of her usual cheerful school voice.

The boy in question had, fortunately, wandered off with Chad already, and so wasn't privy to the information that Tatsuki bestowed upon his current roommate.

"Ichigo _hates_ running," Tatsuki explained quietly. "He always has. He used to whine and bitch about it when we trained at the same dojo. There's no way he'd do any sort of running voluntarily." Her lips curled into a faint smile.

Rukia blinked.

"He must have a good reason," Tatsuki continued, still smirking faintly. She patted Rukia on the head in an almost condescending manner and laughed. "I don't know what the hell you've done to him, but I like it. Keep up the good work, Kuchiki." Then she linked her arm with the weirdly gyrating Orihime and pulled her off down the street toward their houses.

Rukia stood still for a long moment and then stared after Ichigo, his bright hair easy to identify even among the dispersing crowd of high school students. His shoulders were tensed in that way that she knew meant he was nervous about something. Even Chad's monosyllabic conversation wasn't soothing whatever was making him jittery.

_Hmm, _she thought. _Perhaps I ought to teach him about the special _kidoh_ massage techniques that relieve tension._

"For returns," she murmured, a strange half-smile on her lips.

Asano, Kojima and Ishida watched Rukia as she darted off to catch up with Ichigo and Chad, her steps so quick and light she could have run across water.

"Her legs really do look great now," Kojima noted absently.

"Yeah," mumbled the other two boys forlornly.


End file.
